The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [98]
Major Harlowe pinched his daughter's chin, and added that he could see they would soon have all the young fellows lining up to take his pretty little puss out riding and dancing – a remark that caused Belinda to blush uncomfortably and her mother to hope that Edith Viccary would not say anything indiscreet, or Ashton put in an appearance before she had been able to explain matters to Archie. It was really very vexing that Archie should have elected to meet them at Jhelum, for she had counted upon being able to choose her time and broach the subject of Belinda's engagement in the privacy of their own bungalow before there was any chance of his meeting Mr Pelham-Martyn, who would be parting company with them at Nowshera.
The next quarter of an hour had proved a difficult one, but Mrs Viccary had said nothing untoward, and when Ash put in an appearance he was so closely followed by George Garforth that it had been possible for Mrs Harlowe to introduce both young men as shipboard acquaintances, and to get rid of them on the excuse that she and her husband and dear Bella had so much to say to each other after so long a separation… she was sure they would understand.
Ash certainly understood that this was not the time or the place for him to present himself to Major Harlowe in the character of a future son-in-law, and he had retired to the dining room of the dak-bungalow to eat a four-course meal while Zarin arranged transport and accommodation for the rest of the journey, and George prowled up and down the verandah in the hope of catching a last glance from Belinda's blue eyes.
‘I can't understand you,’ said George bitterly, joining Ash at the table when the Harlowes had finally departed. ‘If I had only had the luck to be in your shoes, I'd be with them now, tackling the old man and staking my claim before the whole world. You don't deserve that angel, and it'll serve you right if some other fellow cuts you out. I bet you there'll be dozens of them hanging about her in Peshawar.’
‘There were at least a dozen on the boat,’ observed Ash amicably. ‘And if you think this is a good place to line up before a complete stranger and demand his daughter's hand in marriage, you're the one who must be mad. Damn it, he hasn't seen her since she was in short socks. I can't embark on a subject like that five minutes after he's met her; and in a crowded dâk-bungalow at that. Talk sense.’
‘I believe I am mad,’ groaned George, striking his forehead in a manner that would have done credit to Henry Irving. ‘But I can't help loving her. I know it's hopeless, but that doesn't make any difference. I love her, and if you let her down –’
‘Oh, stow it, George!’ interrupted Ash impatiently. ‘You've just announced that she'll probably throw me over for someone else, and you can't have it both ways. Tell a khidmatgar to get you something to eat and let me get on with my dinner.’
He sympathized with the unsuccessful suitor, and as the accepted one, felt in honour bound to treat him kindly; but George's dramatics were beginning to pall, and Ash could only regret that he would be stationed in Peshawar where, if he intended to haunt the Harlowes' bungalow, they were bound to meet. As for any fears that Belinda might change her mind, Ash had none. She had assured him of her love, and to have harboured any doubts on that score would have seemed to him a lack of trust and an insult to them both. By which it can be seen that he was still young enough to be pompous in the matter of his emotions.
He was also sufficiently lacking in vanity to feel no surprise when neither Belinda nor Mrs Harlowe made any move to single him out for attention, or bring him to the notice of his future father-in-law when they met on the road at the various dak-bungalows between Jhelum and Nowshera where the dâk-gharis changed horses while their passengers ate, and where they put up at night. George might say what he liked (and he said a good